


Rules of Engagement

by bikuai



Series: Cod(IW)tober [3]
Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), Call of Duty: Infinite Warfare - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Engagement, Gen, anti-war sentiments, bet you didn’t see this coming, no sight or sound of salen kotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 16:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21102716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikuai/pseuds/bikuai
Summary: Cod(IW)tober Day Nineteen: Dying“I’m not going to die on you.”





	Rules of Engagement

**Author's Note:**

> Nice title, right?
> 
> Some creative liberties are taken because I hate Infinity Ward (and we know nothing about Dan)

The mattress dips under his weight, one knee resting on his side of the bed as he leans over to place a kiss on your forehead. He is already dressed for work, and you shudder at the feeling of the rough fabric under your palms. He pulls away slowly before you tighten your grip to stop him.

“Dan,” you start, a lump forming in your throat, “please don’t leave.”

He gives you a sad smile, almost indiscernible in the early morning light. “This is the last time, love. I promise. After this, it’ll be just you and me.”

You pout at his words. “That’s what you said last time.”

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I swear this will be the last mission I go on.” He pauses, then adds, “At least until after the wedding.”

“_Dan!_ That’s not fair,” you groan, pulling him down into the sheets. “You don’t need to keep going off-world like this anymore. I’m more than capable of providing for both of us, and I actually want you to _be here_ when I come home everyday.” You give his shoulders a light squeeze to emphasize your point. It’s only so often that you spend more than a few weeks together at a time; Dan’s deployments are irregular at best, and it’s not uncommon for him to depart on a moment’s notice.

A pinch of guilt flashes in his eyes, but he appears determined to argue his point. “If I’m going to be your husband, I can’t let you do that. Doesn’t matter how much money you make: I won’t let you be the only one working,” he insists, nuzzling into your neck. “Besides, I think I’d get restless waiting at home for you everyday.”

You cross your arms behind his neck as he presses lazy kisses into the place where your pulse is strongest. “Get a day job then; I’m not letting you go back to SATO after we get married,” you state, only a slight waver in your voice. He doesn’t respond to your remark, refusing to meet your eyes, and you feel like you’ve lost him. After all, your request could be considered quite harsh, asking him to give up his career outright. You try a different approach and start again.

“Gosh, just _think_ about it for a second: what if something happened to you out there? What would happen to me or the children we might have? Can’t you consider how we would feel?”

Dan tenses and hesitates a long moment before pulling away to look at your face. “That’s a big ‘if’ darlin’. I’m not going to die on you.” He cups your cheek with his hand and places a chaste kiss on your lips. “I’ll always come back—”

“You can’t promise that,” you whisper against his lips.

His eyes flash up to yours, almost unbelieving, but he grunts in agreement. “Tell you what, love: I won’t go on anymore off-world assignments. Ever. This will be the last one. After we get married, I’ll be fighting all my battles here on Earth. I’ll try to stay in Sydney as much as I can, but you know how UNSA is…” He trails off, watching your expression shift from hope to resignment.

You release a shaky sigh as your hands come up to frame his jaw. You notice that he’s clean-shaven, likely for this mission. With his mess of cropped auburn hair and deep hazel eyes, you couldn’t possibly imagine how he acquired such an alias as ferocious as “Wolf.” He always told you it was a distant translation of his last name (which was soon to be yours as well), but you doubted his SCAR operative buddies dabbled in etymology. 

Whatever he was like out on the battlefield—a side of him you hadn’t seen and never hoped to see—had warranted that nickname. The thought of it unsettles you, and hearing other people casually refer to the sweetest man you know as his code name never fails to send you into a wave of cold discomfort.

Letting that side of him continue to be expressed was hard while you were dating, but now, with an engagement ring on your finger, it’s becoming unbearable. Despite the good work being done by branches of the UNSA, you couldn’t keep repressing your aversion to the fact that your fiancé kills people for a living. The offhand comments about Martians don’t help either; Dan had ceased making them when he learned of your familial ties in the SDF, but you know his actions don’t represent the views of all of SATO. Decade long grudges fester between Earth and Mars as well as within the soldiers they employ. Unspeakable brutality plays out on the front lines, in which you can only hope your fiancé hasn’t taken part.

These thoughts aren’t helping you feel any better about the situation. If anything, they have brought you close to tears. Breathing deeply, you collect yourself enough to speak again.

“Daniel Kelsey Lyall,” you drag, accenting each syllable. He hums at the use of his full name but otherwise doesn’t interrupt. “I know being a part of SATO is important to you, but marriage is full of compromises, and we have to find some middle ground on this.”

“I agree. We can work everything out when I get back.” He unceremoniously pushes himself off the bed, and you find yourself eyeing him in his UNSA gear. Despite your disinclination towards its purpose and what it stands for, you still find him attractive while in uniform.

He doesn’t fail to notice the way you look at him so longingly, but there is little he can do to comfort you now; he has time-sensitive obligations waiting for him at the base. Dan does try, however, pressing one last kiss to your lips. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten about our debate from earlier: I still believe our wedding’s theme colors should be blue and green.” His lopsided smile sends your heart into a love-lit waltz. You laugh.

“If you want to have an Earth themed wedding, you’re going to have to do that on your own. The colors should be _yellow_ and green,” you protest, tossing a pillow at his retreating form.

“Yeah right, love, _as if that’s gonna happen,_” he says from the kitchen. You can hear the shuffle of his boots and the ruffle of his bags as he gets ready to depart. The profound dread from earlier returns with vigor, seeping into your bones. You force out a response around the lump in your throat.

“We’ll see.”


End file.
